Blade's Edge Novels & Stories

A mixture of relief and sorrow flooded through me as I realised that it was over, that Blade had won. The cost was evident in the bloodied and battered form of Blade, his sides heaving as he caught his breath. But he had done it – he had fought for me, for us, and emerged victorious. Kane promised me once that if Jake ever returned he would protect me and stop him from taking me. He had kept that promise.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

It was no ordinary blade, curling and forming the shape of a crescent moon, it’s edge uncomfortably sharp. Ember bent backwards, her body arching in the same fashion as Dina’s stolen blade. For a moment, it looked like she might fall over. She narrowly missed losing her head, and as the dagger passed inches above her face, she straightened up and launched an attack that clipped Dina in the shoulder.

The arena, a vast expanse of cracked stone and scorched earth, bore witness to the fierce clash between two titans. Blade, known for his relentless aggression and lightning-fast strikes, had seemed invincible to many. His reputation was built on an impressive string of victories, each one a testament to his unmatched skill and brute strength. His movements were fluid and precise, his blade a blur of deadly steel that cut through the air with lethal intent. But today, the tide had turned.

I so deeply loved my people. Renewed, I scurried back to the workroom, distributing sandwiches and coffee. Alex was hunched over the book, only his attention was not focused on a page, but rather the back cover. He felt carefully along the seam of the leather bound book, tracing the line where the paper met cover, as if he was looking for a weak spot. In his hand rested a small blade, and he raised it after a few moments. He stuck his tongue out slightly between his lips in concentration, his curly hair flopping down and brushing against the page as he sliced it open with surgical precision. He peeled back the canvas layer of the inner cover and sighed in relief, pulling out a piece of folde

“My wolf… he says we need to get to Hallow’s Edge. Something important is there. And I ran into Blair on the way out. Again with 'I can be your Luna' bullshit.” Mom and Dad exchange a look. Dad mutters, “Great. Just what we need.” Mom’s eyes soften. “Wolves don’t sense things without reason. And Blair is still a child. She will understand once she finds her true mate.” I nod, gripping my duffel tighter. Whatever’s waiting for us in Hallow’s Edge… it’s big. It’s important. And it’s meant for me.

He was the wealthy, arrogant playboy girls would swoon around, and also the Blade family's eldest son. "Ezekiel?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ezekiel Blade,” he said. "Why are you without your glasses, freckle face?” He always mentioned his last name like he was nothing without it. But I knew that he loved the name so much as it meant people would fear him. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from his grip. “Still a bully, huh? Besides, I don't wear glasses anymore, and I'm definitely not freckle face. It's Lydia Winters,” I said, mimicking his words.

The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion. For a moment he stood perfectly still, letting the quiet settle around him. Then he began. The blade moved through the air in slow, controlled arcs. Steel cut through the morning mist. Again. Again. Again. Each motion was deliberate. Measured. His breathing fell naturally into rhythm with the movement of the sword. Training had always been the only place where Adrian’s mind truly quieted. The past faded. The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background.

His face grim, Colin snorted, "Where did you find this actor? His acting skills are pretty convincing. But no, this won't work. You abused Joyce's cat. We were just gonna let it slide if you apologized to her, but you're too stubborn. Get over here, or you'll never get a glance from me again." At such a point, he was still trying to frame me. I glared at him and looked at my bloody hands from his stomps. I had a knack for painting. With Lauren's support, I never gave up. Once, I beat another girl in a competition, and she came after me. Colin stepped in like a fierce protector. Now he was the one hurting me most. I looked away, refusing to move. His patience wearing thin, he growled, "Come o

“Daddy stop!” Breen staggered back, blood seeping from his mouth. He then stepped forward again. Jared Noble was by no means a small man and he looked like a bear about to put a smaller animal down. He step forward and swung again. Breen caught his hand and stopped it in mid slam. Victoria clasped her hands over her mouth. Breen leaned forward and spoke low, “Because you are Victoria’s father. I will not fight you.” Jared looked into his eyes as he let out a roar and pulled his other arm back.